Hey There Sandman
by Let Me Level With You
Summary: When Stacey a normal college art student wakes up from a coma induced sleep in a strange hospital room from a dream, she wanders around with no clue who she really even is. With the help of Sam and Dean Winchester, she must find out everything that happened to her before the accident and her identity crisis.


Stacey tilted back in her cushioned seat as the lecture in the classroom carried on its way for another hour. Today was running slow as ever. After having to lug her bags to school in a very small Vespa in the rain from work, she was tired as hell. Leaning in on her friend Ali, Stacey whispered with a cocked smile.

"Hey…Ali. You wanna ditch today with me?"

Ali just sat there, raising an eyebrow in a disappointed motion.

"Uhm, no. I'd rather not fail this course because of all your crazy attempts to play hooky every day."

"What? This is like the first time!"

"Sh!" Ali said as she spotted the teacher over looking at their conversation which was getting louder by the second. "Look, leave. I really don't care. I'm just don't feel like getting an F because of it. Ok?"

Stacey sighed and nodded. "Fine, suit yourself." Shrugging her shoulders, she grabbed her bag quietly. Taking up the books and notes from off the desk back into their fixed locations then finally having the courage to interrupt her Professor's lecture.

"Uh, sir?"

Turning around and dropping his cane the old Professor stirred a look of confusion. "Yes, uhm."

"Stacey. Its Stacey."

"Well then, Miss Stacey. What is it?"

"Can I leave? Im not feeling so hot."

Sighing and writing up a few things he made his way up the long stairs slowly then handed her the crumpled up piece of paper with blue scribbles.

"Make sure to get these books by tomorrow."

Nodding Stacey smiled and ran out the corridor doors. She couldn't believe it. She managed to fool the oldest Professor into letting her leave. Skipping down the hallways as they were empty she spotted what looked like a tall male, probably in his late twenties or mid-thirties move quickly across the halls. She could make out small details. Short hair, broad chin, and muscular outline.

"What the…." Stacey ran up to the hallway the figure had made its direction towards. It was gone as if it didn't exist in the first place.

"Hm, weird…"

She then took up the chance to ignore it and continue her way to her dorm on the other side of the building. It was cold out so her thin layer of clothing flapped in the wind. Stacey had barely any money to support herself with because of college and food. It was hard to save up anything when student lones snatched whatever money was in the piggy bank away. She looked like a typical malnourished college student. Clothes that looked like your grandparents had owned them. Torn jeans with splotches of paint, worn out navy jacket, torn up black tank top, and worn out red high top converse. A year ago Stacey had decided to cut off all her hair for some cash and the shear fact she didn't feel like buying hair products all the time. It was to much of a hassle. So now every morning she would just brush back the messed up bangs along with bed head of her red colored mane. Problem was Stacey didn't really remember passing high school, or even the schools you would take before that. She never really looked into it. She just went with the flow. Maybe they had mistaken her for someone else. All she knew was that once she had made it to her bedroom she was watching a marathon of October films. With Halloween coming up it was a peaceful month of scary movies and pumpkin spice lattes. Stacey liked this time of year. The air would get cold and then everyone got dressed up in terrifying costumes. It was a time where you didn't have to be yourself. And that made her happy because Stacey never did like her personality. She thought she was boring, dull and just overall a stick in the mud. To think it was easy to make friends in a creatively based college, but it wasn't. Sighing Stacey slipped out a herbal cigarette from the pocket of her green colored jacket, then lite it with a covered palm. Taking a smooth puff-blow of the menthol flavored cigarette Stacey proceeded to her dorm, fumbling to get out keys. Finally getting the door open with a sigh of relief Stacey made way to the white colored couch.

"Ugh." She mumbled under her flattened face. "Finalllllyyy."

Getting out food only took a few minutes. The coffee table sprawled with wrappers and cardboard boxes of pizza. The room was pitch black. The only light shining was the TV. Stacey circled up and munching on popcorn focused her gaze on Jason's face.

"That bitch better run. He's like right behind her!" Yelling with frustration as a female went crying with hysteria down the walkway of a steam room. A black figure came up from behind only for the TV to cut to static.

"God damn it cable!" Slapping her screen rapidly, Stacey sighed with annoyance.

"Why when the marathon was going on? That was my favorite part!"

But then the screen started to go back into focus a little every second. The image began to appear a vivid surrounding of what looked like a hospital room. The camera was positioned to wear it looked like a patients point of view. But the person wasn't moving. Two men stood near the door with concerned expressions planted upon their faces.

"I don't remember this being in the movie.." Getting closer she could make out the shorter looking male. "Hey…that looks like…" Before she could finish her comment a wave of pain engulfed her head.

"God…ah." Stacey moaned with agony as it over took her, fall to the carpet clinching her temples.

As the headache passed the TV went back to normal, showing Friday the 13th credits.


End file.
